Doping And The Tour de France

Discover What It's Actually Like To Take Steroids

So imagine what testosterone can do for pro cyclists, who have to ride well over a hundred miles on consecutive days on the Tour, often in extreme summer conditions and over brutal terrain, against the best competition in the world. The event, after all, isn’t won by the man who’s fastest on any one day of the three-week contest. It’s won by the racer who’s the overall best, day in and out. Thus, the superior athlete, relatively speaking, is the one who best recovers. That’s why “anti-tiring” drugs like the T — among other chemical substances — create such tremendous success. They help riders, like known dopers Floyd Landis and Tyler Hamilton, and perhaps Lance Armstrong and Alberto Contador, to snap back after a grueling day. Who wouldn’t want a little helper over 2,000 mountainous miles?

They're wonder drugs - and they're illegal

The catch is that they’re illegal, although the foul play in sports like bodybuilding, boxing and baseball has nothing over the cheating that takes place in cycling. Bike racers have been taking performance-enhancing drugs — from cocaine to nitroglycerine to amphetamines to growth hormone to erythropoietin to testosterone — for over a century. Part of the reason doping became an established practice in cycling is that the races of yesteryear were as much about survival as winning, and the drugs helped reduce the suffering endured during competition. I’ve been told repeatedly that old habits die hard, and I’m confident that plenty of today’s racers are still issued syringes right along with their helmets, bikes and wheels.

I’m not saying cheating is right or fair, and unquestionably there are cyclists in the Tour who ride without PEDs. I’d bet my bottom dollar, especially by the third week of the race, that the “clean” athletes lag way behind in the competition.

The price: guilt and aggression

By the way, the cheaters have more to worry about than their nagging consciences. Besides feeling tremendous guilt and betrayal as a bike racer, the drugs sometimes made me feel edgy and surly. On the T, I also worried about my long-term health. Nobody knows what testosterone or these other substances will do to a guy. I was glad to get off the stuff.

But if my job were to win bike races, and I suspected others of doping and thus enjoying a performance boost estimated at a 20% increase in ability? You bet I’d stick out a gloved hand for the needles. In the end, Lance Armstrong, like every other pro cyclist intent on winning, only used the tools of his trade.